Savior
by MKat98
Summary: The nightmares are back for Harry, but who can comfort him? Who can tell him the nightmares aren't real? Eighth year fic.


_No clue what this is, it just happened spontaneously. Gotta love that spontaneity._

**Disclaimer: JKR owns my soul. Lol, jk. She does own the characters in this fic, though. I just own the situation.**

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**Savior**

Harry woke with a scream, tears streaming down his cheeks. His chest rose and fell rapidly and he trembled slightly. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to stave off the fear that threatened to engulf him.

The nightmares had increased in frequency, and now he saw their faces every night as opposed to just once or twice a week. Remus, Tonks, Fred, Snape, Sirius, Colin, Dennis, Cedric. Everyone he couldn't save. Everyone he had failed. They surrounded him, berated him, demanded how he could live with himself. Ugly looks of hatred distorted their features as they shouted at him. And he hung his head and took it, because in his heart of hearts, he knew they were right.

Then they would fuse together into one body, with that same snakelike face that had haunted Harry's life for 17 years. But Voldemort tortured Harry in a different way. He didn't appeal to Harry's guilt. Instead, he used the Cruciatus Curse on everyone Harry held dear. First Ron, then Hermione, that Ginny, then Mrs. Weasley, then Professor McGonagall, then Neville, and finally Luna. And Harry was powerless to do anything but watch, paralyzed with fear and grief for his friends. His body refused to obey him, no matter how much he wanted to run and tear his friends from Voldemort's grasp. And after Voldemort finished with Luna, his scaly hand would reach for Harry. That was when the debilitating and irrational fear for his life would grip Harry.

Harry always woke up screaming just as Voldemort's hands were about to close around his neck.

"Potter, are you alright?" came a silken voice.

Harry froze. He quickly thought back to the previous night. He had stumbled up the stairs, exhausted from the strenuous reparations, changed into his bedclothes, and flopped into bed, where he had promptly passed out.

_Without casting a Silencio_.

Harry cursed himself internally. He always cast a Silencio before he fell asleep, so that Malfoy wouldn't be able to use his nightmares against him. Knowing Malfoy, he would lord the nightmares over Harry's head the first chance he got, in order to show that the great, perfect Boy-Who-Lived-Twice was no better than the rest of them. It was bad enough he had to room with Malfoy; he wouldn't let the blonde gain any leverage over him in the process.

Harry remembered the day rooming arrangements had been handed out to all the eighth years. None of the dorms had been large enough to house an extra year's worth of students, so another wing had hurriedly been tacked on to the main castle, with several small rooms that were only big enough for two or three students to share. Roommates had been assigned randomly, and somehow, Harry and Malfoy had ended up together. Both Harry and Malfoy had protested loudly at first, but their pleas fell on deaf ears, and eventually they just learned to accept it.

"Potter?" Malfoy asked again, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said quietly, trying to hide the fact that he was crying. "It's nothing." Both boys were silent for a while, and Harry began to think that Malfoy had gone back to sleep.

But then Malfoy broke the silence. "We're not so different, you and I," he said. "For starters, I have nightmares, too."

Harry's head whipped around to see Malfoy's silhouette sitting up with his knees drawn to his chest, arms wrapped around them, head facing forward.

"How did you know?" Harry asked, not bothering to deny it.

Malfoy scoffed. "I see you thrashing around in bed every night when I jerk awake. I know you Silencio your bed every night. I've seen you bolt up, mouth open in a silent scream, more times than I can count. It's not that hard to figure out."

Harry lay back down in his bed, arms still wrapped around his torso. "It never truly leaves you, does it? The guilt."

Malfoy made a small noise of agreement. "No matter how much you justify your actions, or tell yourself that you were right, or know that it's unwarranted, the guilt is always there." They shared the silence for a few more minutes.

"I see them," Harry admitted finally in a small voice. "Everyone who died to protect me. Everyone I failed. They tell me I didn't try my hardest. They say I could have saved them." He paused, half-hoping Malfoy would contradict him. When Malfoy stayed silent, though, he continued. "I'm starting to think they're right. That I _didn't_ do my best. Maybe I could have saved them. Maybe, if I had found the Horcruxes faster, or not been so stupid, or been stronger, I could've kept them out of Voldemort's grasp. I could've kept him from hurting them." His voice broke on the last word, and suddenly the dam had broken. Harry began sobbing silently, fresh tears coursing down his cheeks, as the guilt and pain and self-doubt finally overwhelmed him.

There was a small creak, and then suddenly, Malfoy was climbing into Harry's bed and wrapping his pale arms around Harry's waist. "You tried your hardest, Potter," Malfoy murmured. "You did all you could. The past is the past, and we can't change that." Harry buried his head into Malfoy's chest as the blonde spoke and let the tears come, no longer caring who held him, no longer caring who knew, no longer caring that he was handing Malfoy the perfect blackmail material. He melted into the tender embrace, letting the temporary feeling of safety wash over him.

Finally, the tears stopped, and Harry's momentary vulnerability left him. "Sorry about that, Malfoy," he said, and turned around so that his back was facing the Slytherin. He closed his eyes, falling asleep within seconds.

He didn't hear Malfoy say, as he returned to his own bed, "You're wrong. You saved more people than you know. You saved more people than anyone had any right to expect. You saved…you saved me."

**FIN**


End file.
